Vivienne
by VIVIANVAMPYRIC
Summary: SHINICHI ONE-SHOT. To feel her sweet fabric brush against his skin... it was almost as if her ingenious fingers stroked his flesh in comfort.


_Vivienne_

_

* * *

_Smoke floated lazily from the cigarette that hung from between his lips. The chain connecting his piercings together sparkled in the low light, a glint in the eye of the devil. He sat in the carpet of green, on the side of an incline. Places like this were hard to find in the bustling city, so alone he reigned: king of the hill. His tattered clothes flapped in the wind like rags, but if anyone were to acknowledge them as such, they'd receive a swift kick to the balls.

If only they knew how much he paid for those _rags_. As if he'd drop tens and thousands on anything that wasn't Vivienne. The lighter around his neck moved with the wind, its orb like shape brushing against the chains that always accompanied it, the noise reverberating through the valley like a distant bell tower. Clang, clang, _clang_. The accessories – they all felt like shackles, sometimes.

The studded collar was loosely fastened against his pale flesh. The leather burnt black fingerprints into his skin, making its presence known. The cool metal kissed his heated skin, fevered by what the night promised. A full bottle of alcohol and a cellphone sat next to him, along with the shed sunglasses, cuffs and bracelets – his second skin. His wrists felt so light, so free without the incessant jangling, his eyes cleared. So there he waited. He waited for his phone to vibrate, the device his connection to fuel his... habits: Vivienne, cigarettes and alcohol. So what if he had to sleep with a couple of bright eyed women with the moon in their eyes? They were young, but Hachi and Nana liked to remind him that he was, too.

They didn't know. They didn't know that he was wiser beyond his years, wiser beyond Nobu's years, wiser beyond even Reira's years. He was too young to be feeling so damn old. Unfortunately, it was one of the side effects of being unwanted by your parents. You had to learn things – and you had to learn them fast. He leaned back against the hill, the cool grass grazing his back, and tickling his bony arms. One of his dark eyes closed as he winced in irritation, the blades of grass prickling his sensitive nerves. He brought the bottle up to his lips and downed a third of it in a gulp. The ashes fell from the end of his cigarette onto a small patch of dirt – nature's ashtray. He turned the dirt around in his fingers, the dark earth making a home underneath his fingernails. With a deep breath, smoke entered his lungs, swirling around like smoke in a crystal ball. It coursed through his bloodstream, his muscles releasing all of his tension. The high. His body slumped, as he lay down. The cold earth cradled his body, enveloping him. How sweet the spring was.

Sakura blossoms were blooming, their pink and white petals erupting from their deep slumber. Shin always used to love them. They were _alive_. With their blushing faces silhouetted against a clear blue sky... it was one of the pleasures he allowed himself, even as a child. He had attended the cherry blossom viewing festivals frequently on his own, sitting under the shade of the trees with his eyes closed. Without sight, all of the other senses were intensified. The laughter of the children, the scent wafting from bento boxes packed by beautiful women and adolescents, the _loneliness_.

It was all there. His head pounded at the thought of such happy scenes while he was forced to simply fade into the background. It _hurt_. But that hurt, it made him feel so alive. Perhaps it was sick of him to feel this way? Being used by women with money to waste and falling in love with women who had no affection to spare. His phone vibrated as his eyes shot down to the glowing cellphone.

_Shin, I need your company tonight. I know you remember the place._

Oh, that sweet feeling. Being needed, even if only for a night. A worthwhile job indeed. He downed the rest of that bottle in a swig and stood up unsteadily, the threat of toppling over in those platform shoes almost inevitable. He slipped his hands into the front of his tartan pants, readying himself for the job that awaited him now.

_King of the hill will have to wait. I have to work hard. To feel. To get Vivienne. _


End file.
